Love will tear us apart
by EternityisOver
Summary: Sam doesn't know who he would choose. That's what's bugging him. And Dean's not in the mood to listen. Set early Season 3.
1. Thinking

So I don't know how happy I am with this one. I was watching the football at the same time as I was writing it, so got sort of distracted/wasn't really in the right mood. But excuses excuses…I wanted to post, because I haven't posted anything in ages. So here we go:

**Disclaimer: **Don't own Supernatural. Don't own the song "Love will tear us apart", which is where the title is from.

Sam comes first, he comes above everything else. It sounds corny and melodramatic, but that's the way it is. How it's always been and how it always will be. And Sam knows it. He _knows _thathe's the most important thing in Dean's life (despite all the ridiculous and insulting nicknames he's had to injure over the years, all the pranks, the countless jabs at his geekiness/hair/height etcetera etcetera). Sam knows it, but he doesn't understand why. _Why_ is he so important to Dean? How _can_ he be? He friggin' _left_ Dean, just upped and left him, left him all alone to deal with a father who lived and breathed nothing but revenge; left him to deal with being the sole provider for said wonder dad. He completely and utterly abandoned and betrayed Dean (although he didn't realize it at the time. He was too self-absorbed to think of anyone but himself), so how can his brother still love him?

Because it is love. No matter how hard Dean tries to brush it off, or however much he tries to hide it, Sam knows that what his brother feels for him is love. A love so strong that Dean sold his soul to Demons, just to get Sam back. If that isn't to spit right in John Winchesters face, than what is. Just another testimony to how far Dean would go for his brother. And it's so unbelievably ridiculous. So unbelievably wrong.

"_Dean_" Sam clears his throat. His brother hasn't responded in the slightest, hasn't even lifted his eyes from the book that he's reading. Which is probably because Dean isn't really reading the book (_Who the fuck is he kidding_, Sam thinks), he's actually staring intently at the copy of "Busty blondes of the 80s'" that he's hidden behind the book (_Why does he still bother with that? _Sam wonders. _I'm not ten). _And really nothing can get Dean out of the trance that he seems to fall under when he enters the land-of-porn. Still, Sam _really_ needs to talk to his brother. So he presses on.

"_Dean…hey, man, can we just…talk? I need to talk to you_."

Dean looks up. Apparently _something_ can break Dean's porno-trance – Sam's slightly desperate voice. Dean does _not _look happy though. His lips are pursed, his right eyebrow raised. Dean's got his bitch-face on (although of course Dean has never admitted to said bitch-face, and Sam has learned the hard way never to call it that out loud). But Sam really needs to talk to him. About the deal. About his sacrifice.

It's not that Sam doesn't understand why Dean did it. Sam knows and understands the type of love that Dean has for him, the type of love that is so strong that it governs everything, trumps everything. Sam is everything to Dean, so of course the price of his soul seemed a small price to pay to get that everything back. Sam understands that, because he felt that way about Jessica. She was his everything, his all, back in the Stanford days. He would have done everything for her. And that's the problem, Sam realizes. Sam may be Dean's everything, but _Dean_ isn't everything to _Sam_. He's come to realize that, during his countless hours of reflection (what Dean has dubbed Sam's "gloomy periods") after Jessica's death. Dean is only half of him. That's what's bothering him. And he needs to tell Dean. So that Dean will see that his brother isn't worth what Dean thinks he's worth (his _soul)_. So that Dean will start fighting against this thing, start looking for a way out of the deal, instead of sitting back on his haunches and just accepting it. Something that he's done because he loves Sam. Which he won't do at the end of this. At least not as much.

Hope you like! Posting part two later tonight. Please R&R

SC


	2. Talking

Dean can hear Sam fidgeting on the bed opposite him. Can _see _Sam fidgeting, shifting. No matter how much he tries to concentrate on his…reading (he thinks he has Sam fooled with the book. Kid probably doesn't even know what porn is, little prude that he is). The air feels heavy; it's so thick with Sam's suppressed emotions. So he's not all too surprised when he hears his brothers voice suddenly pipes up, calling his name (_whispering _his name more like). Dean starts humming "Stairway to Heaven" in his head, turns another page. Message to Sam: "leave me the fuck alone, I will get back to you when I feel like it". Only Sam doesn't seem so receptive to his big brother's psychic messages (now there's some irony for you), because he goes on. "_Dean…hey, man, can we just…talk? I need to talk to you_." And now Dean really can't ignore him, because Sam's actually gotten out a whole sentence. Which equals: Sam means business. So Dean looks up.

And oh, _God, no. _A chick-flick moment.Dean can already tell, just by looking at his brother, that that's where this is headed. And he is _not _pleased. Not in the slightest. Really, God_damn._ He looks at his brother, trying to gage how far up the emo-ladder the kid is. Puppy dog eyes? Check. Watery eyes. God_damnit,_check. The only thing missing is a choir of angels and a string quartet grinding on mournfully in the background, and Dean would be in emo-heaven.

Oh this is _unbearable_, he thinks. He really, _really, _does _not _want to spend his last 8th of November on earth trying to comfort a soppy six foot four 24 year old freakazoid. He would actually rather be torn apart by hellhounds (actually _woah_ no, not that fun of a joke when you know that it's actually going to happen) than have to listen to more of Sam's emo crap. But he can't just blow his brother off, because he's been doing so for weeks now and Sam just seems to get more up himself every day that passes that he can't spill the beans, and Dean knows from experience that it's wiser to deal with Sam's moods before they grow all too big. So the long-suffering big brother opts for his i-am-pretending-to-be-listening-to-you-but-what-i'm-really-doing-is-picturing-what-i-would-do-to-that-hot waitress/bartender/teacher/receptionist/nurse/scientist dealing mechanism that he begun using when Sam entered his whole woe-me phase at age 13_._

"_I couldn't be around you for the first few weeks after Jess died_", Sam whisper-says. And Dean is actually kind of surprised (_Don't ever let anything get you by surprise son, _he hears his father say), because he thought they'd moved on from Jessica months ago. And really, he's not all too pleased about the subject being taken up again. It's fucked up, is what it is. A minute ago he was looking at naked girls, and now he's discussing his brother's _dead_ girl? Dean has no response, and he guesses that Sam isn't waiting for one, figures this is just Sam's introduction to the topic of the day, so he just looks at his brother, who works his jaw.

"_And it wasn't because I thought you'd judge me for being weak, you're not Dad, I know_." Sam says, his voice a little stronger. He licks his lips and looks at Dean out of the corner of his eye. Like he's waiting for a reaction. Which Dean will _not _give him. He is pissed though - _You're not Dad? - _what, is Sam implying that their Dad doesn't (didn't) understand grief? The man is dead and Sam is still going at him. Un-fucking-believable.

"_But just_…" Sam starts up again, runs his hand through his hair, stands up, let's out a sigh, moves over to the chair next to Dean and sits down (_come on already!_ Dean thinks, but doesn't say anything because Sam's always been like this when he's upset) "_I didn't know. You know_?" Sam looks at him eagerly, eyes huge, and he looks really tired, Dean notices. Sam's nodding at Dean, looking at him knowingly, like he really wants Dean to know what he's on about. But no. Dean doesn't know.

"_No, I don't know._" Dean says. Sam says nothing. And Dean has now reached his limit. He can feel his eyebrows drawing together, all his frustration going to his eyes.

"_What the __fuck __is going on Sam? _He says it with a little more vehemence than he had meant, but _really_. He's tired of this shit, and he just wants Sam to start talking already, so they can get it over with._ "What, am I supposed to guess what you meant by that? I mean was that it? Have I seriously just put myself through five minutes of your huffing and puffing to get nothing out of…"_

"_I didn't know who I would choose_." Sam suddenly seems to have his voice back, and the words come out fast and strong.

Still though, Dean isn't anywhere closer to understanding why his brother ripped him away from his precious…leisure time. He can tell it's not good though, because Sam is staring down intently at the motel room carpet, refusing to make eye contact with Dean, even though they're just an arm's length apart. Dean can tell he's not going to like what's coming. But it's his job to ask, to find out what's bugging Sam, and he will do it till the day he dies.

And he does _not_ want to think about how soon that is (eleven months and 18 days).

He doesn't need to ask, though. Sam continues on his own, still staring at the carpet.

"_Between you and Jess. If I were given the choice, you know, like…like a Djinn situation, like the one you were in. Or something. I don't know if I would choose you or Jess." _

Dean thinks his heart might just have stopped. Or broken, actually. But he's spent his whole life putting Sam's happines/well-being before his own, he's learnt to hide his pain and focus all his attention on Sam, and he will continue to do so until the day he dies.So he doesn't say anything. He doesn't melt into a heap on the floor, doesn't storm out, which he thinks most people in his situation would do. And what situation is he in? One where he's sitting in a crappy shithole of a motel, in a crappy shithole of a town, hearing his little brother tell him that "no, brother dear, you're not as important to me as I am to you".

"_And I just feel like a horrible person"_ (what, he's still going on? Dean thinks, and he really wants Sam to _shut up already_, because he really feels like lying down and crying and he can't do that in front of Sam). _"Because you've sold your soul Dean, for me" _(yea, thanks shitface, didn't know that) "_And I just...I don't…deserve it_?"

Sam's voice does a little climb at the end, like he's asking a question. Like he's asking Dean if he deserves it. Oh, he's asking Dean if he deserves it (no you don't).

"_Yes you do Sam_". Dean's voice is husky because he's fighting back tears and rage and all other emotions. Sam is going to think that Dean's voice is like that because he's been touched by his little brother's adorable self-loathing/modesty bullshit (incidentally Dean doesn't care much for modesty. He drives around in a vintage car for crying out loud. Not for long though. Fuck. _Fuckfuckfuck). _

Sam is looking at Dean now, a little glimpse of hope in his eyes. Dean realizes that the ball is now in his court, that he's expected to say something. Something deep and meaningful. But he doesn't know what to say, doesn't _want _to say anything, because he thinks Sam has said everything that needs to be said. So he opts for most well honed defense mechanism. A tool that wasn't given to him by his father: humour.

"_Yea well_"he clears his throat. "_You were probably just, you know, sexually frustrated"_. He puts emphasis on the last two words, then smirks at his brother. Whose eyes have gone ridiculously wide. He looks a bit like a bug, actually, Dean realizes, and scoffs., _"You know, on account of not having sex for so long cause you know, you're girlfriend died" _(come to think of it, Dean kind of understands why Sam may have trouble choosing between dear older brother and dead girlfriend)

"_What? __What?"_ Sam's nostrils are flaring, his voice is dangerously low. He's leaning towards Dean, arms resting on the table. Dean can feel his brother's breath on his neck, he's that close. Uh-oh he's actually quite mad. Or hurt, whichever. Which Dean understands, he knows it was a low jab, talking about the dead love of Sam's life. Even for him that's low. But at least the chick-flick moment is over with. He pulls back a little, not entirely enjoying the smell of Sam's breath.

"Well_, no sex can kind of damaging Sammy. Withdrawal symptoms. It becomes all you can think about. So maybe that's why you wanted her more, you know_?"

He glances over at Sam again, whose expression has done a complete turn from borderline rage/my-brother-is-a-nutcase to pity. _Fuck,_ damn Sam and his intuition, he's onto Dean and his whole using terrible humour/inappropriate comments to end uncomfortable situations. But for once, Sam doesn't call him on it. He lets it go. Stares at Dean for a bit, then just whispers "ok. Yea, alright". An uncomfortable silence follows. Dean doesn't know what to do, doesn't know if it's ok to go back to his magazine (really, who was he kidding with the book), doesn't know if this is the end of the conversation. He doesn't feel like crying anymore, he's sort of numb now. Dean scrubs his hand over his, and when he looks up, Sam is standing in front of him, hands in his pockets. Dean looks up at him.

"_We have to get you out of the deal, right? We're going to try…right?_" Sam says. His eyes are dry again. And Dean knows that it's ok to say what he wants to say.

"_Yea". _He nods his head, reaches for the magazine, not bothering with hiding it behind the book this time, and starts flipping through it. _"Yea, we're gonna try". _

Sam's made him realize that nothing is worth going to hell for. And he loves his brother all the more for it.

That would be it! R&R

SC


End file.
